


No Justice for us

by IamInadequate



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Romance, pre-AGOT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2012-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-09 05:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamInadequate/pseuds/IamInadequate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A pre-AGOT story about Grenn and his milkmaid and what he did for love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Justice for us

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not good with names and places, but we have no info about Grenn's past so I have to invent. I didn't expect to made a romantic fic, but I'm full of feelings for Grenn and his story with the milkmaid.  
> To my darling Daria (I was tempted to tag the story as Green, not Grenn, to honor the tumblr tag)  
> Edit: Daria has adjusted this story, danke darling. <3

“Who are you?”

Alea looked at that weird boy huddled under the table in the porch, he kept his arms over his  
head as if he wanted to protect himself from something.

“I'm Grenn... You?”

“Grenn? What a stupid name. I'm Alea... What are you doing under the table?”

Grenn stared at her. He was confused, as if he had forgotten why he was there.

“My brother said this is a dangerous place. It always rains stones, and I swear to you, I felt it.

This looks like the safest place.” His pitch was clear, pure, naive.

She cast him a puzzled glance, then she crouched beside him.

“You are the farm hand's son. Aren't you?”

For a moment Alea was about to call him idiot, but she didn't know him and it would sound  
unkind, so she opened and closed her mouth.

“I'm the miller's daughter, I have lived here since I was born, and stone's storms are rare.”

“You sure? I was getting bored.”

“How long did you stay here?”

“Don't know, it was morning when I escaped from the stone's storm.” The kid touched his  
head, his brown hair was ruffled and some pebbles were in his locks.

“Come, don't be stupid.” Alea got up and held out her hand to help him.

“Can you see the clouds? They're far from us, nothing will happen to you. I'll take you to the  
chicken coop, maybe we could steal some eggs. You must be starving.”

***

“Bloody idiot, where were you?”

Grenn scratched his head, confused by Alea's baleful eyes.

“I-,” he began, but a punch on his right shoulder interrupted him.

Although they were the same age, Alea was definitely stronger, taller and more aggressive  
than him; she didn't miss the opportunity to hit or scold him.

“I should go there alone.”

“No, I want to see the lake. And stop calling me idiot,” he spoke up.

“How should I call you then? You are an idiot,” she replied venomously, ready to hit him  
again.

Grenn grumbled something, but his numb shoulder was a warning to not challenge her.

As they crossed Lord Errol's fields, Grenn was brooding over how unfair his day was going:  
his brother had blocked his door, so he had jumped out of the window, just to fell on his  
mother's flowers; moreover Alea had hit him. He was nine, he was almost a man and he  
couldn't get beaten up by a thin girl. She wasn't that thin, but Grenn was a man.

He stared at her back and she was distract, so he didn't think and just reached her.

“What-” But Alea couldn't end the phrase because she felt to the ground.

“I can beat you up whenever I like. And I'm not an idiot.”

Alea thrust him aside, only to knee him.

“I didn't hit you,” he declared.

“But my ankle hurts. IDIOT.”

And they began to roll. Grenn was tugging her hair while she bit his arm. They rolled until  
they reached the lake, their clothes were soiled and their arms were scratched.

“I don't know what's in your head. You can go to the Seven Hells, you and your lake,” she  
yelled, as she got up.

The following day Grenn was knocking at her door, a bunch of flowers in his hand.

His mother would kill him, those were her favourite flowers, but Alea was more important  
than a scolding. He didn't act as a man should be, real men don't tug ladies' hair.

“What you want?,” she asked sharply.

“To apologize. I hurt you, I'm sorry,” he said, handing her the bunch.

Alea took the flowers and she sniffed them lightly.

“I accept your apology. You know, you didn't hurt me.”

“You were limping.”

“And your nose was bleeding.”

Alea cast him a spiteful glance, she threw herself on him and hit his head.

“Remember this, stupid boy. I'm stronger than you.”

***

Alea looked at him, a shade of scepticism in her eyes.

They were three-and-ten now- and Grenn was taller and broader than her. Thanks to his job as  
farm hand, he had started to be more muscular, nothing like his brother or his father, however  
it was getting difficult to pin him or hurt him.

They were sitting on a heap of straw and Grenn couldn't take his eyes off a six-and-ten old  
servant with soft sides and big teats.

“I don't get why you like her,” she asked angrily, trying to not compare her flat chest with the  
one of the curvy servant.

“Teats,” he replied, chewing his bread.

“I don't get why you like teats.”

Grenn cast her a wry look. As if you know what the sarcasm is.

“They look... soft.”

“You can watch and touch a pillow then,” she turned up her nose at Grenn's amused face.

“Pillows didn't let out nice whining, when you touch them.”

“Teats neither.”

“But her owners.”

“As if you had listened to a woman's whining.”

Grenn's cheek got bright and Alea couldn't stop herself from smiling. He could defeat her  
physically, but she is stronger with words.

After long minutes of silence, in which Alea had been gloating and smiling, Grenn looked at  
her.

“What?”

“Are you jealous?”

“I'm-”

“I mean, are you jealous of her teats?”

“No,” she answered outraged, feeling her cheeks hot.

“Stop saying stupid things,” she added, throwing herself on him.

Grenn didn't expect that reaction, so they both felt to the ground, the straw was everywhere.  
He was laughing about her angry look, while she hit his shoulder.

“Your blows always hurt terribly,” he exclaimed in his laugh.

Alea was about to rise, but Grenn dug his hands to her sides and he flipped her to the ground.

“It hurts,” she yelled and shut her eyes.

Sometimes looking at Grenn's face was annoying, her stomach used to flip and her cheeks  
burnt.

He acted like a stupid towards her, moreover. He looked at her intrigued, sometimes he  
seemed astonished, as if he had never seen her.

She could feel his hand stroking her cheek, his fingertips were rough and warm.

“Grenn...” she sighed, opening her eyes.

“I like little teats as well,” he grunted with a smile. It was the usual Grenn's smile, that kind of  
gentle and pure smile she loved the most.

But his words... humiliation and embarrassment burnt like wildfire in her chest and she  
pushed him away.

***

When Grenn woke up, he asked himself why his window was opened.

It wasn't that cold, but a bloody sunshine was hitting his face and it annoyed him.

“Alea and you have fought again?,” his brother asked, kicking his leg to wake him.

“No... I don't know... I don't understand her anymore. She's acting like a fool over the past  
year,” he rasped.

“Make up with her.”

“I don't get what I've done to upset her. I just can't go to her and apologize.”

Alea was milking a cow energetically, ignoring its bellows of pain.

“That idiot,” she was mumbling as she cast sour looks to every person in the shed.

“Alea.”

“How dare he say that to me?!”

“Alea!”

“Yes father?,” she looked up to her father, a flush of pink on her cheeks.

“Your look will turn the milk in sour. Did you fight with Grenn?”

“He is an idiot.”

“This never stopped you from being his friend.”

Alea got up cleaning her hands on the apron, she needed cool air and her father's eyes were  
laughing about her stubbornness.

“Alea...” She heard his voice and in a moment her face was red and hot. “Stop!,” Grenn said  
holding her by the wrist.

“What?”

“What have I done? Why you're always so angry?”

She didn't answer, her eyes staring at his neck, unable to meet his glance.

“Because you're an idiot,” she shouted, pulling him with both her hands. He hugged her,  
because he really hated to be called idiot, but after days of angry looks and awkward silences,  
he felt fine.

“You can't stare at other girls and then hug me,” she whispered with a sigh.

He didn't get the meaning of her words, so he stroked her hair, unsure on what he should say.  
He was afraid of her angry reaction, so he simply ringed his fingers on her black and tangled  
locks.

A part of him had to admit it: he liked to fight with her. She was funny with her scowl, he  
liked the smell of milk on her skin and he loved her body pressed on his; he could touch her  
sides and her thighs and once or twice he had squeezed her buttocks.

He didn't think of his action: he just held her sides; her eyes met his, confusion and wildness  
were dancing in her look, she was ready to fight.

“You smell like milk.” He sniffed at her.

“I smell like a cow, you mean,” she replied, elbowing his ribs.

“No.” He sank his nose on her hair, it was milk and sweat and straw.

He would like to taste her, her flavour would be nice and pleasant and he needed to try her  
because an urgent hunger was kicking his stomach.

And maybe she felt the same, because her eyes were full and dark and greedy.

When their lips met, that touch was a light stroke, almost shy.

Still the hunger was roaring, and soon the strokes became kisses. Urgent kisses, wet kisses,  
almost bites.  
And that hunger burnt like the Seven Hells. It burnt them from the inside and it burnt their  
skins, lungs and stomachs.

When they divided to breath, they were shaken.

“You taste like milk as well,” Grenn said, stroking her jawbone.

“It's good I suppose, you love milk.”

***

Grenn had discovered that all Alea's skin tasted like milk.

He had tasted every inch of her skin, he had found out spots that made her giggle.

It was nice, he liked to make her smile.

And she loved to make him roar.

Alea had loved to stroke him slowly, she had bitten him until he had bled because she has  
been stronger than him and she had to prove it - now she wasn't able to leave bruises with her  
blows, so she used her teeth and her nails.

The full moon was enlightened their first night together. They were holding hands as they  
crossed the fields to reach a familiar place, the lake.

They had crossed those fields thousands times, but this time was different, this time they  
wanted to extinguish the hunger in their stomachs.

They laid down to watch the stars and to release the tension. Alea was afraid, even if she was  
trying to cover it so Grenn waited for her patiently, despite the starving look in his face.

When she was ready, Alea jumped on him to roll over the meadow: she was alternating kisses  
with blows, because this was her way to relax and he couldn't complain since he was touching  
her and he loved her fury.

The clothes flew away, a cumbersome hurdle between their skins, and their fight ended when  
Alea let him pin her on the hard ground.

“Don't make that stupid face and don't say stupid things, for once. I know it's quite impossible  
for you, but shut up and do your duty, my love.”

And he did as she wished.

***

“Marry me,” Grenn whispered, one night in the stable.

“What?,” Alea asked, looking at him.

“Marry me,” he repeated, more courage in his pitch.

“What have I said about stupid things?!”

“But-”

“I suppose it really is impossible for you to avoid stupid things, so I must accept to not leave  
you alone.”

He stared at her open-mouthed as Alea flushed hitting is arm.

He was confused, he didn't do anything, but his future wife thought he deserved a punch.

Well, at least now she was laughing about his confused look.

“So my wife...”

She rolled her eyes.

“Fuck you, don't call me like that.”

They both smile, a bit embarrassed.

***

Grenn was walking to the barn, a sack of grain on his shoulder and a smirk on his lips.

He had told his brother about his proposal to Alea, and his brother had teased him, saying he  
would be killed by beatings.

“Don't care,” he had grumbled, shrugging.

He was about to open the barn's door, when indistinct noises and muffled screams drew his  
attention to the toolshed.

He opened the toolshed's door and he was paralyzed, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

“No! No... Grenn... Grenn.” A woman, stuck to the ground, was screaming and crying and  
fighting someone, a man, and her face was covered with blood, tears and soil.

That wasn't a girl. That was his Alea, his future wife, his best friend.

Without thinking, he grabbed the man from the shoulders and lifted him. Even if he was five-  
and-ten, Grenn was broad and muscular, definitely stronger than the rapist.

He looked at his face, he was the lord's son, but it didn't matter and he hit him in the face and  
he kicked him until Alea stopped him.

She was afraid, Grenn had never seen that expression on her.

“Did he...” But the words didn't come out, he was afraid as well.

“No. You saved me. We must...”

Grenn hushed her as some voices called their lord.

“You have to hide. Now,” he whispered, pulling her behind a heap of old tools.

“But...”

“They will beat me and if they see you they will beat you as well. Don't be foolish, stay here.”

“Grenn.”

“After that, you have to run! Under a board in my room's floor I have saved money for us.  
Use it to save your life. Explain the whole story to my brother and run with him.”

The door suddenly opened and some men saw Grenn covered in blood and their lord laying  
on the ground, fainted.

Immediately they pounced on him and the lad tried to stop them, but they were five.

“Oi, you!” A voice shouted. “Carry your lord home, he needs care. This boy must be judged  
by our Lordship, you can't kill him.”

Grenn looked up at the man, he was a septon, he was Lord Errol of Haystack Hall's septon.

Grenn got up and a man pulled him, but he turned to see Alea's eyes for the last time.

The travel for Haystack Hall lasted a few days. Only the septon had spoken to Grenn, he had  
treated him like a poor child, not as a criminal.

When they arrived in town, the streets were full of people and they looked at him with  
interest, with sarcasm, they mocked him with harsh words.

He didn't care. He was a simple boy, he was slow and clumsy, but he could understand people  
and they would never listen to his truth.

He bit his tongue when they threw him into jail, a dark and stinking room, empty but for a  
dirty pallet.

“Tomorrow you'll be judged, boy,” the jailer grinned.

Grenn just ignored him and his empty stomach.

He waited for sleep and, despite the awareness he had grown the previous days for his future,  
madness and fear were twisting in his belly.

When the fatigue was reaching him, the door opened.

Is it morning, then?, he thought, blinking at the torch's light.

A hooded shape walked towards him until it knelt besides him.

“Idiot.”  
“Alea.”

She hushed Grenn pressing her fingers on his dry lips.

“We have no time... and I can't help you to escape.”

“I'd never ask you that.”

Alea smiled, the cut on her nose was still red.

“Your nose...,” he whispered, stroking it lightly.

“I'm not as cute as I was,” she sighed, not really interested in beauty.

“Were you cute? When? I can't remember.”

Alea hit him lightly and playfully, probably the last blow she would ever throw on him.

“There's a man... a Night's Watcher-”

“No!”

“Please, Grenn. Join the Night's Watch. Otherwise they will hang you; I spoke with the  
septon, and he sees no possibility for your life. There's no justice for people like us. I'd like to  
witness...”

“No,” he interrupted her, anger and fear in his voice. “You won't witness. You will go

tomorrow, you have to run. If that lord speaks, you'll be on trouble.”

“I won't speak, but you have to join the Night's Watch.”

“And freeze my arse?”

“Your arse could freeze, but you'd be alive. Please...”

Grenn look at her stubbornly and then he held her and kissed her. It was a long kiss of  
farewell, full of love, full of anger, their unborn future.  
“We've to go.”The septon exclaimed and they looked strongly.

The dawn came and with it the jailer.

Grenn let him lead him in the square, people were smirking at him, because they wanted to  
see him hung up, they wanted to see how the justice was respected.

Grenn looked at the crowd and he saw the Night's Watcher. He was tall, black clothes, he was  
a northman, he was a lord.  
Few rows back, under her hood there was Alea, her look afraid.

He hated to look at her so frail.

The whole time they declared his crimes, Grenn kept his mouth closed. They asked questions,  
but he just shook his head as his eyes were on Alea.

“... so you refuse to support your own cause, I sentence you to death,” Lord Errol declared,  
almost bored.

“Want to say something, boy?,” he asked.

Grenn sighed, the chain at his wrist hurt and his heart was biting furiously in his chest. Alea  
was challenging him with her eyes.

“I want...” His voice was husky and he sounded like a crow. “I want to join the Night's  
Watch,” he said raising his head, looking at Alea who was smiling and crying.

“You can't-,” the father of the man he almost killed was roaring, but the Night's Watcher  
listed laws which let him to take Grenn in his journey.

Soon, Grenn would be on the way for the Wall.

***

“Hey, have you seen her?”

“Who?”

“That girl.”

Pypar, a boy who would be his brother in the Wall, made a nod towards a pretty servant of  
Winterfell.

“And...?,” Grenn asked, sipping his ale.

“Are you an idiot? She is fucking you with her eyes.”

“What? And I'm no idiot.”

“I think you're quite slow, mate. You should go to her, you know... no girls allowed in the  
Wall and all, this would be your last time with a woman.”

Grenn looked at her, then he shook his head. “I'm not interested.”

“That's not possible.”

Grenn shrugged, again sipping his ale. It tasted good, a bit bitter.

“So you are a virgin.”

Grenn laughed. “I'm no virgin.”

“Oh, yes, you are. What she has under her gown will not hurt you, don't worry.”

Pypar smirked, barely avoiding Grenn's blow.

“You can fuck her, if you want to.”

“Maybe you prefer boys. I'm sorry, you're not my type.”

They both started to run, Pypar was quicker but Grenn didn't give up.

And while he ran through the woods, he heard a laugh and a whisper: idiotidiotidiot.

But probably there was only the wind through the branches.


End file.
